NationStates Jolt Archive

Abel walked through the streets of Erolpe, his head down and his hands in his pockets. The brim of his hat was pulled low and covered his face, the collar of his coat turn up to obscure any viewing from the side. A virtual map played against the inside of his cornea, giving him a detailed layout of his surroundings in all three dimensions. He walked with a purpose and was obviously no country yokel, but the map still labeled him as a tourist. Turning down a side alley he approached a thick wooden door, knocking twice and waiting.

As he waited he was approached from the rear, a calm voice calling out from darkness.

"Put your voucher on the ground, take two steps to the left, and close your eyes."

He made no move to comply, not even acknowledging the voice as it called out again.

"Put your voucher on the ground, take two steps to the left, and close your eyes."

Again no response to the command, this time Abel even yawned. A third time the stranger called out.

"Put your voucher on the ground, take two steps to the left, and close your eyes."

This time Abel does respond, raising his right arm to point behind him.

"Give Pluto my regards."

With a flick of his thumb a burst of energy flew forth from his outstretched hand, crashing into the would-be mugger and passing through unhindered. The body, what was left of it, fell to the ground and crumbled into ash. A minute later the wind had scattered what was left.

Abel turned back to the door, knocing twice (again) and waiting.

EDIT: You can post Tags and comments, it's just IC stuff that I don't want here

You are late.

The words seem to come from the air itself, as if the very fabric of Space and Time were speaking.

"So?"

I do not have the time, nor the will, to simply sit in a corner and wait for you. Do not be late again.

The air shimmered, rage palpable. Space and Time, it seemed, was a little miffed.

"Are you giving me commands? Have you forgotten who I am?"

Space and Time does not seem to care.

You will not be late again.

"You know what? Fuck you!"

Your attitude will not be tolerated. You will be punished.

A door opened, white light shining through. Out emerges a living Adonis, seven feet tall and with a face to melt the hearts of those who coveted the original. His muscles seemed to be sculpted from solid stone, his strength unimaginable.

He approaches he who would defy the voice, reaching out to take him and drag him through the door.

He who would defy the voice, still defying, simply turns and gives the guy a swift kick in the balls. The Adonis, his beautiful face a bit twisted now, collapses to the floor and moans.

"Now, can we get down to business? Or do I need to start shooting the walls?"

Our of the door emerges another figure, this one a bit less Godlike.

"What did you have in mind?"

"Abel, you ask for to much. A standard uniform I can do. I can even get my hands on a KSMAR. It'll probably only be a 730, but they shouldn't be able to tell the difference. But there is just no way I can get a pair of Emitters. Why don't you just ask me to steal the Dukes personal stash of vodka?"

"I need access. The Duke sure as hell isn't going to give it to me. Unless I'm mistaken that doesn't leave many options."

"But I just can't do it!"

"Find me somebody who can."

"Nobody can! Those things are under tighter guard the new MiniStar project, you can't just walk in and pick up a pair."

"Fine, then get me access to a CommuniGate."

"What good will that do? You'd need an access code, and I can't get you that either. That entire branch is locked down tighter than a Jimathonian clam."

"Get me to a CommuniGate, or get yourself a new liver."

"A new.......Huh?"

"You're not very bright, are you Harold? That was a threat. A threat on your life. I'm saying that if you don't get me to a CommuniGate I'm going to rip your liver out of your body. You will probably die from that, since I'm going to stand here and make sure you don't call an ambulance. I might also kick you a few times. Can you understand that?"

"Uh........"

"I'll take that as a yes. Now, you have 17 hours to either get me a pair of Emitters, or get me to a CommuniGate. Start working."

Abel walked out of the small side room, clothed in the beautiful splendor of a Dealer Dress Uniform. The buttons were buttoned, the medals had been shined, and the rank insignia was newly stitched on. The perfect image of a quality Klonor soldier who takes pride in his work.

"God, I'd hoped that I was rid of this damn uniform. Ugliest damn thing I've ever seen."

"You wanted the real thing."

"Yes, I did. Speaking of which........."

"Oh, right. The KSMAR. I was able to do better than the 730, I found an actual model 826. Unless they take the damn thing apart they wont be able to tell it apart from a 1,000."

"Good. The emitters?"

"Well, there were some problems."

"Harold......"

"Look, they just can't be gotten. Threaten me all you want, the fact is it just can't be done. Deal with it."

Abel sighed to himself, but it wasn't very deep. He knew it'd be next to impossible to find an emitter set, he didn't really expect Harold to come through. Still, he had hoped.

"Very well. Take me to the CommuniGate."

"But why? It wont get you an emitter set, and it wont take you anywhere a private Gate wont."

"Harold, don't you like your liver?"

"Uh.....my car's outside."

They arrived at the CommuniGate without any unforseen delays or further threats to Harolds liver. It was a rather nice day out and they drove with the windows down, enjoying the breaze and the warm air, smiling at passing cars and up at the clouds. A bit odd, when you consider that both of them aren't really the "smile at the clouds" type. When the Gate came into view Harold stopped the car, at Abels command, several hundred meters away.

"A Dealer doesn't go around in full uniform when he's not on duty, and when he's on duty he sure as hell isn't being driven around in a pice of shit like this. I'll walk the rest of the day. Go home and have a drink, give your liver a workout."

He approached the Gate with the swagger of a true Dealer, the total appearance insuring that nobody dared approach him.

"Command Facility, Gate Registry 0-93-W."

The Gate controller, not used to transporting people directly into the heart of the Klonor Space Corps, fumbled a bit before he remembered what to do.

"Sign in here, please, and input your clearance along with your classification number."

"Yes, sir."

Clearance level Alpha 02. Serial number --/---/--/-73. Priority Level Theta

Only three people had Alpha level clearance, and the computer knew better than to suddenly start shouting the anomoly to the Gate controller. He'd be informed of standard Rho level clearance, and the other two thought him long dead. Nobody would know he'd passed through this Gate......not that it would matter in a little while.

"Thank you, sir. Step through, please."

And Abel is within Command Facility.........

Abel walked down the hallways, saluting where a salute was necessary and accepting one when required. It had been years since he'd last been there, but the layout hadn't changed and he knew exactly where to go. Well, it actually had changed, but when all you have is straight hallway after straight hallway you'll eventually get where you need to be if you just keep walking.

Warning: Gamma Level Recognition Required. Rho and below not allowed within. Unauthorized persons will be shot on sight. You will not be warned, you will not be jailed, you will be shot. Your family will not be notified and there shall be no official record. Stay out.

"Wow, it's almost like they want people to peek in."

He shoved the doors open and walked in, immedietly yelling orders at the guards stationed within in an attempt to keep them off guard for a few brief seconds. Yelling, and gesturing with his KSMAR. His KSMAR which he did not get through official channels, and which he had not tested yet. His KSMAR which did not start shooting bullets when he pulled the trigger.

"Oh.......fuck"

Then the guards bring up their weapons, which had been obtained through official channels and which had been tested and which would have started shooting bullets if the guards hadn't recognized him.

"Is that..........oh fuck"

The seventeen men stood there and stared at each other for a while. Abel with his faulty gun (he'd need to go kick Harolds ass for that later), the six guards who were suddenly getting flash backs, and the ten scientists having no clue what in the hell was going on.

Abel was the first one to break the silence, speaking the first thing that came to his mind.

"Hey man, what's up, yo?"

He probably should have waited for the second thing.

The guards, not thinking any more clearly then Abel, return with an equally idiotic statement.

"Shouldn't you be dead?"

"Yeah......that didn't really work for me."

He began to raise his KSMAR again and the guards, though still dazed, tighten their fingers on the triggers.

"Put down the weapon. Now."

Abel, not insane, complies and lowers the faulty weapon.

"Okay, you're all very confused. I get that. There is a perfectly sane explanation for all of this."

"Oh, yeah? Wh----"

The guard doesn't even get a chance to finish the sentence as Abels hands, raised in simulated surrender, gesture at the group that the guards had clustered into and release a torret of energy which obliterates them, their clothing, and the weapons that they really should have used.

"You want WHAT?!?!?!?

The lead scientist stared in shock and horror, unable to comprehend what he'd just heard. Oh, not the terrified and pain filled screams of the Klonor soldiers who had just been horribly executed, that happened like every other week, but Abel asking for the installation of an Emitter set. That was just so unbelievable, so bizarre, that he couldn't even think of a more intelligent response than "You want what?"

"I want you, and your little assisstants here, to install an Emitter set. It's not a very complicated request."

"But.......but.......but....."

"Aren't you supposed to be the smart one?"

"But.......but.......but....."

"Can you say anything else?"

"But you can't want an Emitter set!"

"Why not?"

"Don't you know what those things will do to you? You'd be ripped apart from the inside out!"

"How do you figure that?"

"You're not compatible!"

"I'm not? Who says I'm not?"

"You can't be! You'd been in the Association then!"

"Who says I'm not?"

"Cause then you'd already have an Emitter set."

"This is a good point. Okay, let's try this. After you install the Emitters and I'm painfully, and slowly, ripped apart from the inside in a truly horrendous death, you can call up General Keane and tell him you managed to subdue me and killed me yourself. Now you're all famous, rich, and you get a better lab."

"No!"

"Fine, let's try this. Install the Emitters, or I shoot you."

"John, prep him for implantation."

Abel sat in a very soft chair, his eyes closed and his arms stretched out to the side. He breathed slowly, relaxing further with each inhalation. His mind was at peace.

Slowly, he pointed at a crystal vase sitting on a pedestal six feet in front of him. His face tightened with effort, sweat glistening over the taught skin of his forhead. His fingers twitched and his arms vibrated. His jaw clenched and his bones creaked. Slowly, the vase began to rise into the air.

It wobbled as it rose, constantly dipping and only making a few feet of progress after ten minutes of effort. But it did rise, and did stay risen.

Slowly, a grin spread across Abel's face. When he finally got the vase stable, hanging perfectly still in the air, it imploded in a sudden burst.

"Good. Very good. It's about time."

Abel walked through the Klonor Space Corps Command Facility, familiarising himself with the new layout and practicing with his new found toys. He was getting rather good, once the pathways had been cleared control increased exponentially.

He neared the amory, deciding it was not a good idea to be waking around with a funky model 826. He walked in, heading straight for the 1,000 case.

"Excuse me, can I help you?"

The attendant was sitting in a very nice little desk behind a very nice little computer screen which controlled a very nice little Phase Gate. The last caught his attention. So did the CRIMTech Pulsar Assault Rifle the man had directed at his chest.

"Yes, I..........I need to report a found weapon."

"You mean a lost weapon?"

"No, I found a weapon. A Thumb Gun to be precise. Recently used."

He reached into his pocket, supposedly to remove the weapon that he had found, when was actuall detaching it from his back and arm. He then slapped it down on the desk, no longer needing it. He had a new weapon.

"Holy Shit. Who the hell would lose a Thumb Gun? Keane is going to freak when he hears this!"

"I know, that's why I brought it to you. I knew you'd know what to do."

"Yeah....well, I cou--"

The attendants neck snapped and he fell over. Abel shoved him out of the way and began to type commands into the Phase Gate.

I can't believe it, it can't be this easy.

Yet it was, for the Gate activated, read the Emitters, and whizzed him straight to the Duke's bedroom in the Vicegral Palace.

Abel was silent, memories flooding back. This room hadn't changed in all the years. Everything was exactly as he remembered it. Including the Duke, passed out beneath his desk and a bottle of Collostomizers on the counter.

Dear God, it's been like two hundred years. Does he ever change?

It didn't matter, for it would all be over soon enough.

"Excuse me, Sir, but you need to wake up now."

The Duke didn't even stir.

"You need to wake up now."

The Duke still doesn't stir.

"Damnit, wake up you dumbass!"

And then the Duke had a certain part of his anatomy kicked very hard.

"What the bloody hell? Who the hell are you?"

"What, you don't remember your old friend?"

"My old......Oh-My-God. You!"

"I am Supreme General Abel Salm, the Rightful Commander of the Klonor Space Corps and Ruler of the Klonor Empire."

He stepped forward, drawing himself up to his full height.

"Not this pathetic 'Association', but the TRUE Klonor Empire! The Empire you destroyed! The Empire that made Klonor strong! The Empire that kept us safe!"

He stretched out his hand, mentally clawing at the Dukes throat.

"You ruined Klonor! You made our Fleet that laughingstock of the Universe! You ruined my lifes work!"

His mind strained and the Dukes throat began to tighten.

"Now, I ruin you!"

And the Dukes throat collapsed.

Warning! Warning! Subject is suffering from oxygen deprivation. Mental activity is under threat of cessation. Brain damage is occuring. Death imminent.

The chip implanted within the Dukes chest, constantly analysing his vital statistics, sent a signal to a complementary chip within his skull. A chip with a rather large battery and electrodes extended throughout his body. A chip which doses his entire system with high voltage electricity whenver it receives a signal. Like it just did.

Trophy Lights. What sounded merely like a rare cigarette brand was in fact a highly secret and covertly developed Jimathonian technology. A technology which brought Emperor Jimathon back from the dead, and did so for the Duke more than once. A technology which usually takes about a month to fix all the damage, but which can be sped up shockingly by simple electricity.

The Duke gasped, his eyes popped open, and rage burned within his soul.

"You son of a bitch!"

He thrust his arms out and mentally grabed Salm by his hair, hurling him off the ground and across the room.

"Did you think it would be that easy? Did you think I'd just roll over for you? Did you think I wouldn't make you pay?"

The air began to glow, the very atoms being energised.

"I stopped you before, I do so again!"

He raised his hands and hurled a ball of energy forward, slamming it into Salms exposed flesh.

"Now burn!"

Salm screamed, howling down from the very core of his being. His skin boiled, heat passing through and scorching his most internal of organs. His screams died, but only because there was no air left in his lungs. His mouth stayed open, his eyes bulging and veins popping out his skin.

But the Duke is not finished.

"I trusted you like a brother! Then you killed me! You piece of shit, you killed me! I thought I was rid of you! I thought you were gone, and I was happy! Because you did not deserve my love! You think I ruined Klonor? You ruined Klonor! You made us hated! You made us reviled! You made people develop ships purely to kill us! You think that is good for Klonor? You think that is what Klonor is about?"

The heat intensified, Salms flesh beginning to actually melt off his bones.

"Now, you piece of shit, now you will die! You will die a death I have not experience! You will DIE!"

Salm is writhing on the floor, internal and external pain running through him. His plans are shot to hell and he knows it. He didn't know about that damn chip in the Dukes head, he'd counted on a month of power before the Duke showed up again. A month to find some way to counter the re-animating bioagent, a month to make sure he would stay dead. If that failed he could have at least stripped the Emitters from his body and locked him in a small cell. It would end the same, with Salm in power and the Duke not.

But it wasn't working out very well, what with the whole "Being burned alive" thing happening.

Groaning, Salm rolled over, trying to escape from the heat. Trying to prolong his miserable life for as long as he could.

"Now, you piece of shit, now you will die! You will die a death I have not experience! You will DIE!"

The words somehow penetrated through the fog of pain and misery, reaching what was left of his mind. The mind of a man who, though evil and self-centered, was a life-long soldier who commanded millions of men in battle.

"I might die, but I'll take you down with me!"

And a blast of energy flung the Duke across the room

The Duke fell to the ground and clutched his chest, feeling several broken ribs. He gasped in pain and started to cough, fighting to keep from collapsing. He might be immortal, but he only came back good as new when he actually died. Superficial wounds and he bleeds just like the rest of us.

Salm was slowly rising to his feet, his skin practically liquid due to the heat. He doesn't make it the first few attempts, collapsing again in pain and agony. Eventually, however, he makes it to the air.

The two stare at each other, both waiting for the other to make the first move. The Duke grimacing a bit in mild discomfort, Salm barely able to stand.

"You can't kill me."

"But I'll make you wish you were dead."

"I've been dead. It's not so bad. You, on the other hand, have not even begun to suffer."

"Which of us has the broken bones?"

"Which of us is about to melt into a pool of human tissue?"

The Duke knew he had the advantage. He couldn't be killed, he had decades of experience and training with the Emitters, and Salm was near death as it was. Salm, however, was the man who had trained the Duke in combat. He Commanded the Corps because he was intelligent and decisive, quickly adapting to new situations and always anticipating the actions of his opponents. He might be able to lose, unlike the Duke, but that didn't mean he would lose. Right now escape was looking a lot like victory to him.

"So, Salm, tell me something."

"Yes, oh great Duke?"

"Why? Just tell me that. Why come back? You survived being shot in the head, I don't know how but you did, and survived being dumped on a barren planet in Guanyu's territory. So, you're alive and marooned on a barren planet. You live and get back to civilization. But instead of leading your own life, instead of joining some pirate force or going to some other nation and offering your knowledge of Klonor, you come back to get me. Why?"

"Why? I'll tell you why. I was pissed off, that's why. I mean seriously, you shot me in the head for Petes sake! It hurt!"

"What, that's it? Jesus, why the hell did I ever put you in charge? Are you reall that petty? You come back just for revenge?"

"Yes, I did."

"Well, then. Take it before I do."

And the Duke strikes.......

It had served him well in the past, a physical gesture to help focus his thoughts. Extend your index finger and thumb, close your middle, ring, and pinky fingers, and point. It helped shape the general energy into a single intense point, a bullet from the hand.

"Bang, you're dead."

The energy flew at Salm, striking at his head. At least, where his head used to be. It hadn't really been a concious action, he'd just given in to the commands that his aching body was giving. But he dropped to the ground, the energy flying over his head.

Salm, in retaliation, grabbed the chair behind him and hurled it straight at the Duke.

The chair explodes along the way, the Duke effortlessly casting it aside. But Salm has taken his chance, and he's gone.

"Ah.....crap."

The Duke limped over to the wall, punching up a Comm to the Security head of the Palace.

"We have a Level 09 breach. E equipped, D trained, knows everything about the Palace."

"Do we have an I.D. sir?"

"Yes, he is......he is.......he's Supreme General Abel Salm."

"Salm? Seriously?"

"Damn straight I am. He's in here, he's gunning for me, and I want him dead!"

"Yes, sir."

"Oh, and get a medic in here to bandage me up."

"Yes, sir."

Salm fell to the ground, fighting to keep from screaming in pain. His entire body was bistered and bleeding, if he lived the day he'd need an all-body skin graft. He was lucky he wasn't dead aleady. The human body just isn't designed to handle having the entire outer surface scorched by pure energy.

At least he wasn't with the Duke anymore, if he'd stayed in the room he'd be dead by now. Thank God he managed to get to a Gate control panel when the Dukes vision was blocked by the chair, now he had at least a small midgen of success.

"Okay, so, I'm watching the vids and in walks this..."

"Wait a sec, you were watching the vids? Dude where?"

"Uh...at my house."

"Bullshit! Since when can you afford the vids?"

"Well....I...."

Salms eyes slowly opened, watching a pair low level functionaries walk around the corner in front of him. He raises his hands, but the pain is just to intense. He groans, and falls to unconciousness.

"See, what I did was....Jesus Christ, what happened to you?"

"I don't think he can answer."

"Yeah. Damn, he doesn't look good. What could do that to a man?"

"I don't know, maybe plasma scoring."

"Whatever it is, we need to get him to a hospital. Now."

"Yeah."

And the two men pick him up, dragging him towards the Palace hospital. Off in the distance the security alarms begin to sound

"Whoa.......what the hell did you do to this guy?"

"Hey, we never touched him! We just found him like this out in a hallway."

"Uh-huh. Of course you did."

"Hey, we did!"

"Right. Any idea who he is?"

"Nope, not the foggiest idea. I figure he's an engineer, it looks like plasma burns and who else in the Palace has access to that kind of stuff?"

"No, it's definitely not Plasma. It's to evenly distributed. Also it's to penetrating, there's internal damage as well yet it didn't break the skin. I don't know what the hell could do this."

"Yeah, well, you just make sure to fix him up. We....we need to be going now."

"Yeah...bye."

The two bearers rush out of the room, probably in response to an armed squad of Marines bursting through the door. No matter what you're doing or who you are, you just don't want to be in the same room as a squad of those guys.

"Can I help you gentlemen?"

"Come with us. Now."

"I have a critical patient here!"

"The Duke is injured."

"Sorry burned dude, I gotta go."

He passes Salm off to a passing intern with brief orders to begin a skin regeneration then heads off to patch the Dukes ribs.

"Jesus Christ, what happened to this guy?"

"We don't know, but it looks like serious burns over his entire body. I haven't found an unscathed patch of skin yet."

"Holy crap. And he's still alive?"

"We think so, but it's kinda hard to tell."

"Well, get him to the reanimator. Fast."

"We're already on the way."

Salm is on a gurney, quickly being moved throughout the hospital as people try to figure out what the hell to do with him. Normally it'd be a simpe job of cloning him some new skin, but since there were no undamaged skin cells that was proving difficult.

"Shove him in the radiation chamber. That should do it."

"The radiation chamber? Are you serious? He's already horribly burned, I don't think radiation burns will help!"

"Ric, just shove him in there."

"You're the boss."

As the doctors treat Salm (or at least try to) the Duke sits in his bedroom and thinks. The search was going throughout the Palace, all exits were locked and the Phase Gates had been de-activated. Sooner or later Salm would be captured. That wasn't what bothered the Duke. What bothered him was the fact that Salm needed capturing in the first place. He shouldn't have been able to get into the Palace. He shouldn't have been able to get himself an Emitter set. He shouldn't have gotten into the Duke's chambers. Hell, the guy shouldn't even have been alive in the first place.

"Attendant?"

A door opens and the called one rushes in

"Yes Duke?"

"Get Keane on the line."

"Keane, sir? But......but he's in Andromeda......"

"So?"

"He's fighting a war in Andromeda."

"And your point is.........?"

"Nothing, sir. I'll go engage the transmitter."

"Good."

Direct Beam Transmission: Supreme General Yunger Keane, ASJ Colossus, Deep Space, Andromeda Galaxy
Transmission Origin: Grand Duke Solomon Klonor, Vicegral Palace, Deneb, Associated Systems of Klonor

We have a slight problem. Salm is back.

Transmission Closed

Direct Beam Transmission: Grand Duke Solomon Klonor, Vicegral Palace, Deneb, Associated Systems of Klonor
Transmission Origin: Supreme General Yunger Keane, ASJ Colossus, Deep Space, Andromeda Galaxy

Are you shitting me?

Transmission Closed

Direct Beam Transmission: Supreme General Yunger Keane, ASJ Colossus, Deep Space, Andromeda Galaxy
Transmission Origin: Grand Duke Solomon Klonor, Vicegral Palace, Deneb, Associated Systems of Klonor

No.

Transmission Closed

Direct Beam Transmission: Grand Duke Solomon Klonor, Vicegral Palace, Deneb, Associated Systems of Klonor
Transmission Origin: Supreme General Yunger Keane, ASJ Colossus, Deep Space, Andromeda Galaxy

Whoa.

Transmission Closed

Direct Beam Transmission: Supreme General Yunger Keane, ASJ Colossus, Deep Space, Andromeda Galaxy
Transmission Origin: Grand Duke Solomon Klonor, Vicegral Palace, Deneb, Associated Systems of Klonor

Yeah, I know.

Transmission Closed

Direct Beam Transmission: Grand Duke Solomon Klonor, Vicegral Palace, Deneb, Associated Systems of Klonor
Transmission Origin: Supreme General Yunger Keane, ASJ Colossus, Deep Space, Andromeda Galaxy

I mean whoa.

Transmission Closed

Direct Beam Transmission: Supreme General Yunger Keane, ASJ Colossus, Deep Space, Andromeda Galaxy
Transmission Origin: Grand Duke Solomon Klonor, Vicegral Palace, Deneb, Associated Systems of Klonor

Yeah. Anyway, we'll need to completely re-do Palace security. I thought he was dead, but since he sure as hell isn't we'll need to make sure he can't still do whatever he wants.

Transmission Closed

Direct Beam Transmission: Grand Duke Solomon Klonor, Vicegral Palace, Deneb, Associated Systems of Klonor
Transmission Origin: Supreme General Yunger Keane, ASJ Colossus, Deep Space, Andromeda Galaxy

Right. I'll get on it as soon as I'm done with Blademasters.

Transmission Closed

Direct Beam Transmission: Supreme General Yunger Keane, ASJ Colossus, Deep Space, Andromeda Galaxy
Transmission Origin: Grand Duke Solomon Klonor, Vicegral Palace, Deneb, Associated Systems of Klonor

Good. I'll get back to killing him here.

Transmission Closed

As the Duke turns away from the console a different aide approaches.

"Sir? We found Salm."

"Excellent. Where is he?"

"In the hospital, sir. Receiving treatment."

"What? Why? Unless I'm mistaken we're trying to kill him."

"They didn't know who he was, sir."

"Well, stop his treatment and send a Marine squad down to make sure he doesn't escape. An E-equipped squad, to make sure he doesn't kill everyone and then escape."

"Yes, sir."

Salm sat in his hospital bed, moaning and groaning in his sleep. The Duke hadn't managed to stop his treatment before his skin had been healed, but they were able to stop the injection of all his painkillers and other medication. Now they were just waiting for the Duke to come down and identify him, once the Duke did Salm would be in a box heading towards the sun faster than you could say "Doobie Doobie Do......."

The Marines surrounding him were staring in three seperate directions at once, each one watching Salm, the door, and each other. Nobody knew how he'd gotten into the Palace and they weren't discounting any of the Palace personnell.

"Excuse me, lieutenant?"

It was one of the hospital technicians, approaching the Marines and holding out a ComPad.

"Yes?"

"A message from the Duke, sir."

He hands the pad to the ranking Marine then quickly backs away. A normal Marine is scary enough, throw in telepathic powers and you're close to crossing the line.

As the lieutenant reads the note his eyes widen.

"Mother of God............"

ASIN, DSGR, ET&SMBTS, AOPE, AURTECS

The lieutenant stares at the words, barely able to comprehend their message. It is just so unfathomable, so unthinkable, that he can't even utter a response. The pad is passed around and the rest of the Marines react the same way. Eventually they manage to snap out of their funk, following their orders and beginning to move.

"You!"

The hospital aide turns

"This door stays locked. He doesn't leave, and nobody goes in. Got it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good."

And the Marines are gone.

OOC:
For those not fluent in Klonor Marine code, I'll translate the message.

Associated Systems Installation Nirvana, Dealer Squad has Gone Rogue, Elysium class Transport & Scorpion Main Battle Tank Stolen, Assault On Palace Expected, All Units Return To Emergency Combat Stations

Pain.....anger.....pain.....anger.....pain.....anger.....pain.....anger.....pain.....anger.....pain. ....anger.....pain.....anger.....pain.....anger.....pain.....anger.....pain.....anger.....pain.....a nger.....pain.....anger.....pain.....anger.....pain.....anger.....pain.....anger.....anger.....anger .....anger.....anger.....anger.....REVENGE!

Salm burst out of his bed, screaming in rage and flailing about himself. Energy flew from his body and ignited the furniture in the room, the loose objects rasing from the ground and swirling in the air. Slowly, Salms mind calmed and the temperature lowered. He sat on the bed, mentally cushioned from the still smoking sheets, and thought.

Okay, things have not turned out well here. (Possibly the understatement of the century) I think it's about time that I leave.

He gets up and approaches the door, but finds it locked and resistant to his mental powers. The lack of a Phase Gate within the room leaves Salm with no way out.

Well...........shit

So he sat back down, waiting for a chance to break free and escape from this damn Palace. He didn't give much thought to the Duke, he'd pretty much given up on his dreams of deposing and replacing the ruler. He just wanted out. Maybe he'd take the Dukes advice, find some random nation and start a new life. A nice quiet life. Maybe in some small village, away from combat and death. A chance where he can have a simple way of living, maybe a small garden to tend. Yeah, and someday soon the cows would stop flying (FYI: The first cows brought to Klonor on the colony ships were exposed to radiation, mutated, and now have wings. They are to big for any possible flight, but they can glide). He'd probably end up conquering whatever nation he went to. But hey, anything was better than here. Damn immortality, it takes all the fun out of killing people.

Suddenly, the door to his room swings open and in walks a Marine.

"Sir, I'm here to get you out."

OOC: Okay, unless I start getting some kind of feedback I'm not going to bother to keep this story going. I already know what's going to happen, if nobody reads this there's no point to me continuing to post it. Tell me something, or this RP dies

OOC: Come on people, say something!

ooc: I'm enjoying reading it. I've tagged it, and can't wait for the next post

OOC: One person isn't enough motivation to keep going, either more people start applauding or this thread goes the way of the Dinosaur

OOC: Okay, it's been nearly two days and I've only gotten one response. Sorry Tappee, but the thread's done.

Here's what happens:

Salm breaks out of the hospital, assisted by members of the military who served under him way-back-when and agree with his ideas. They break into the Palace's central Phase Gate, zip up to the ships in orbit, and steal a large section of the Klonor fleet.

Now they're going to zip around blowing things up. Just a bit of advice: Start bulking up your defences.

awww its all over, i like the read klonor. Feel bad for whom evers door ole salm comes knocking at.

OOC: And you thought you've had experience with Gravedigging......

IC:

Salm eyed the new arrival with suspicion and nervousness, but not fear. He recognized him, recognized him from a time long past. Even after so many years away from the Klonor Space Corps the face struck a chord in his mind.

"Lieutenant Rogin? Is that you? What the bloody hell are you doing here? Wait, why aren't you dead?"

Even now he could hear an echo of the Dukes words in his own.

"Simple, I layed low. When they caught you and rounded up the rest of the boys I went to ground. Spent a couple weeks hiding in the woods and living off nuts and berries. Oh, and the local Rorys, but that's not important. Anyway, after a while I went back, turned myself into the Duke, and claimed that I'd been dismissed from the Corps and jailed for not following you once we kicked the Duke off the throne. They bought it and they even gave me a promotion."

He pleasantly stroked the Majors insignia on his shoulders.

"In fact, quite a few of the men did the same thing. For all the near divinity the media hurls at this guy he's not that bright. We've got more than a hundred men who've just been waiting for a chance to break cover."

"Screw that Rogin, it'd never work. I'm done trying to take over this God forsaken place, it's to much of a damn hassle."

"Sir? You're just giving up?"

"What, are you nuts? Where the hell'd you get that from? The last time I checked there's more than just one government in the Universe, and most of the other Heads of State don't have that damn immortality that makes the Duke so hard to handle."

"Good point, sir."

"You're God damn right it is! Now, let's figure out a way to get the hell out of here. What kind of security is set up outside?"

"Nothing, sir."

"What? The Duke's not that big of an idiot, he wouldn't leave me here unguarded unless there was a full scale invasion going on right now. Wait......is there a full scale invasion going on right now? Cause that'd be awesome!"

"No, nothing like that, sir. A Dealer squad went rogue a few hours ago, the heads over in Intelligence think they're working for you and are planning an assault on the Palace. Wait, are they working for you? Cause that would be awesome."

"Working for me? Hell, I didn't even know about it till you told me. But that does make sense, I was wondering why they didn't have a squad of E-equipped Marines here with me when I woke up. They must've been sent to bulk up the defences."

"Correct, sir. Once they were gone I came in, blustered my way past the hospital attendents, shot them all in the back, then opened that door. After that I cam in and said 'Sir, I'm here to get you out' and then you sa--"

"Oh, shut up already. I know what happened after you came in. I was concious for that part. You're saying the room outside is clear?"

"Yes, sir. I've got some of the loyal men outside the hospital doors making sure no more doctors come in, but other than that there's nobody around for a couple hundred meters. We've got time to get you cleaned up and to make good our escape."

"Excellent. Get me out of this damn hospital gown and lets get started."

OOC:

For those wondering why I'm resurrecting this thread which has been dead for months, you might say its a bit of nostalgia. Abel Salm, one of the prime characters in Klonor since I started playing and the only real 'villain', is long since dead. Sadly, I didn't get to even RP that death. I've been on a rather extended break from NS for the past few months and in that time Salm has died somehow. A pity. So, I can't make any new RP's with Salm unless I want to go into time travel, cloning, or a bunch of other stuff that just gives me a bit of a headache. But, and this is a big but, I still love the Salm character and would like to do a bit more with him. So, I thought "Why not finish the story you never did?" This was the second to last RP Salm was in anyway, so if I wont really be changing Klonor history much. At all, actually, since I scripted the end anyway. I figure this is a chance to get in one more Salm RP, for old times sake.

I hope you enjoy reading!

Salm quickly dressed in the spare Marine uniform Major Rogin had brought him. This, unlike his previous disguise, was a combat suite and not nearly as bright and gaudy as the dress uniform he'd been forced to don before. Grabbing a KSMAR-1000 that had been brought for him, a working KSMAR, he prepared to rush out of the hospital.

"Okay, I need to know a few things before we go. How many men do you have exactly?"

"117 in total. 93 Marines, 11 technicians, and 13 pilots. Unfortunately they're all fighters, nobody here can control of Destroyer or Cruiser. We'll need some outside help if we want to get out of here in anything bigger than a Dreadnought."

"What's the general attitude of the Corps these days? Last time I was here they were close to revolting on their own even without me knocking off the Duke."

"I don't think it'll happen this time, sir. I've been asking around for years and most of the people actually like the Duke. The Corps is well funded, well equipped, and the envy of almost the entire Universe. Not only that, but they're seeing a lot more action than they used to. Keane's in Andromeda right now about to beat the heads in of some pissant nation called Bladesters or Blademonsters or something like that."

"Wait, Keane isn't here?"

"No, sir. He's in a different galaxy."

"If he's gone....what about the Colossus? Is that still around?"

"It went with Keane, sir. Along with the New Dawn 03, the Constantine, and a hell of a lot of other firepower."

"Hot damn, no wonder everybody freaked out when that Dealer squad went rogue, they could probably come in here and massacre the entire Palace if they wanted to. Who'd stop 'em?"

"The rest of the fleet would, sir."

"I know that, it was a rhetorical question. How many ships are In System right now?"

"Nothing much, sir. Just one System Fleet and a few stray vessels."

"You call that 'nothing much'? What are you, insane? A System Fleet could probably take over a Stellar System all by its lonesome."

"I meant compared to the usual defences set up, sir. That includes the Colossus, several Battleships, a few hundred corvettes, etc."

"Ah, good point. Well, I guess that one System Fleet will do. Let's go get it."

"Go get it.........huh? Did I miss something?"

"I think you did Lieutenant. Remember out plot? We escape from here and conquer many people and live like Kings?"

"No, I remember that part, sir. But what do mean by 'Let's go get it?' I mean you can't seriously be planning on stealing a System Fleet........Holy Shit, you are!"

"Well, we'll be needing some material to help us on our little venture. What better than an already manufactured, equipped, and crewed set of ships just waiting for us?"

"But, sir, we can't possibly steal an entire system fleet. We don't even have the people to take and pilot a single Fenris, let alone an Orion or Hecate."

"Just leave that to me. Let's go."

This time the Lieutenant didn't object and two exited the hospital, quickly followed by the dozen Marines waiting outside.

The small group quickly strode through the nearly empty halls of the Vicegral Palace (There's nothing like an impending invasion to empty a place out) and attempted to blend in as they figure out their next move.

"The first thing we need to do is cut off the Fleet from its Commanders, that means severing the link between the ships and Keane. Since Keane's in a different Galaxy it shouldn't be to hard."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, sir. We still haven't developed an adequate Sub-Space jammer and the communcations systems on each ship are individually controlled. Unless you want to go to each ship personally and turn off their transmitters and receivers I don't see how we can do that."

"Ah, you forget whose company you're in. You forget that I know the ins and outs of every ship ever built by Klonor."

"Really? How big is the Constantine?"

"Uh....er......well......let me re-phrase. I know the ins and outs of every ship built by Klonor before I tried my little coup d'etat. That includes the Orions, Hecates, and a bunch of other stuff flying around up there. I know what to do. Tell me, where's the central Phase Gate control now-a-days?"

"Three levels up and a hallway over. We can be there in 15 minutes."

"Good, let's go."

The men increased their speed from a brisk walk to a near run, obviously in a hurry.

As they rounded the final turn before the Phase Gate control room the small group stopped short. A few men gasped, some whimpered, and they all stared. They stared at the many rifle barrells aimed at their chests.

"By order of the Duke the Phase Gates within the Vicegral Palace are to remain de-activated until the end of this current crisis. There shall be no unauthorised visitors permitted within the Control room until such a time when the Gates are again activated. Turn around now and do not attempt to enter the control room. This hallway is itself off limits. Find another way to your combat stations. That is all."

Without many options they men turned around and retraced their steps. Stopping once they were out of sight of the Control room guards they stopped to confer.

"I didn't have a good view, did anybody see how many guards there were?"

"There were at least twenty, sir."

"Damnit!"

Salm slammed his head against the wall in a rage, his entire escape plan was hinged upon access to the Phase Gate control room.

Not one single thing has gone right today! It's a miracle I'm even still alive! Okay, calm down, think. There's got to be a way into the control room. Maybe we could just shoot past them.

But a quick look at his men, at the large stomachs and the persperation already covering their bodies, quickly cancelled that out.

These aren't combat soldiers, they're desk jockeys. Hell, just look at Rogin, I doubt he's seen the front lines in a decade. I guess the Duke ddn't trust them after all, he obviously kept them where they couldn't do much damage. Damnit, think man!

"Rogin, how many grenades to we have?"

"None, sir. Private arenals weren't allowed to contain any explosives and they armory is locked down to tight for us to get into. Unless you want us to actually report for duty we're stuck with what we have."

"Wait, that's it!"

"It is?"

"Yeah! Report for duty, get issued your combat weapons, then come back here! It's foolproof!"

"Sir?"

"Think about it, if you don't report they'll assume you've either been killed or your working with me/the rogue Dealers. People will begin to search for you. EVerybody, I need you to report to your combat stations. Make up some excuse for being late, I don't care what it is. Once you're issued your weapons make a break for it the second you get an opening. Make your way back here, I'll be waiting. A few explosives lobbed down that hallway should take care of everything. Move!"

"Yes, sir."

yeah Salm is back!

OOC: Well, not back really. This is all taking place in the past. In the 'now' of NS he's long since dead.

yea Salm is back...well kinda